Who Knew?
by heartorbrain
Summary: AU Based in the song "Who Knew" by P!nk. "If someone said count your blessings now, fore they're long gone...I guess I just didn't know how, I was all wrong..." Finn/Puck slash Chap 3 now up!
1. Chapter 1

Hi, I'm heartorbrain. I've just recently gotten into Glee and this just really wouldn't leave me alone. It's based off of the son "Who Knew" by P!nk. I absolutely adore this song and when I heard it on the radio again the other day, this idea just hit me like a ton of bricks.

I am currently in love with Mark Salling, and I think Finn and Puck are meant to be together, but on the side I defiantely don't mind Kurt and Puck. But this story is better suited for the FUCK or Finnerman pairing ;) sexy.

It might be confusing at first. The fic takes place over the course of about 4 years, so the time jumps around and until then end you won't really understand everything. But that's what makes reading fiction fun right? However, I will say in this story...

Puck never knocked Quinn up, it was Sam. Puck had been a transfer from another state (I won't elaborate where, because that will run everything.) Finn and Puck didn't become friends until junior year, and Sam had been Finn's friend forever. Rachel still had her school girl obsess me deal about Finn, but now she's with Matt. (Weird, sure but I didn't really see her with Mike *shrugs*). Finn is in a band with Matt, Artie, Mike, Rachel, Puck, and Sam. They are very successful, Puck writes all the songs (to Finn but Finn doesn't know that *shhh*), and Finn and Quinn have an on again off again affair that pretty much stretches the whole fic.

Phew! Okay, that's all you get. LOL. I really hope you like this, I'm kinda proud of it myself.

Warnings: Well it's rated M, so I'll let you guess why *eye brow*. My major one is that for the purpose of this fic, we are going to pretend Puck has written songs that actually belong to music people. If that made sense. IDk. Anyway, for each song "borrowed," in the chapter I will be sure to credit the people who actually own it. Since no one is singing here at first no need to disclaim it. Also, this is a sad fic. Prepare to be sad, happy, turned on, sad, etc. etc.

However, just so everyone is clear...I don't own glee. Because if I did, I would lock mark salling in my bedroom and never let him out.

Now without further adue...

**Who Knew?**

**Chapter 1**

_Present_

It's as if he's in a dream. White noised chatter and film crews, sirens, flashing lights, crying women hugging children, nosy pedestrians pointing him out gawking at the travesty, police barricading the scene, smoke rafting up into the sky around a seemingly destroyed car – but he just stands oblivious. Covered in a sticky, crimson liquid literally from head to toe. Staring after an ambulance as it drivse off into the smog – adding to the blaring of the sirens. He can't believe what just transpired in the last twenty-four hours…

_*Passionate night, hearing "I love you," for the first time from the one he's wished would say it for so long, pushing past the border of anything they've ever had before, falling asleep with his love laying on his chest.*_

"_It's just a dream. It will all be over soon." _His mind says soothingly to him.

He looks down at his blood covered hands as another EMT comes over, gingerly touching his shoulder trying to get his attention. He shakes his head, droplets of red falling onto the pavement beneath his feet from the motion; he doesn't want to get cleaned up, because this is the last piece of _him _he may ever have. But the EMT doesn't seem to understand his reasoning, because he's pushing him along and all he can do is unsteadily go with him.

But as soon as he sits on the back of the truck to be examined, and the police come over to ask their questions, all he can see in front of his wide, unblinking eyes replaying over and over again is…

_*Morning, waking up alone to the sound of a door closing, worry, fear, jumping out of bed, seeing an envelope and what briefly appears to be sheet music on his coffee table, running out the door, seeing a shocking mohawk slowly turn at the sound of his name, a sad smile, and then…*_

"It's only a dream…." He says over and over again slightly rocking from a strong feeling of vertigo. The police investigator decides he needs to be hospitalized until he comes out his shock before they can talk to him. He shakes his head in defiance to words aware of them speaking about him as if he weren't even there. He tries to steady himself. To stand. To run. To do something.

But he can't.

Just the same as he couldn't stop the drunk driver from taking his future away from him right before his eyes. Just as he can't stop the noise ringing in his ears from all of chaos around him. Just as he can't stop the tears streaming down his face, or the paramedics grabbing his arm to make him sit back down, or the fact that he can't help but wish for a panic button to push and reverse time right before his eyes again.

He messed up, on the vicious cycle called life; he lost it all because of his selfishness.

'_You were never supposed to be happy, Finn. You were only supposed to survive.'_ The voice says in his mind.

He looks once again at the carnage, before looking back at his apartment. The world is getting dark, because he's so tired. The EMT from before yells for a gurney, his eyes continue to slip closed, as he whispers…

"…only a dream. It's only a dream."

**~FP~FP~FP~**

_1 year later_

He's spaced out like he always is, on his private jet - thinking about their last trip New York. It had been unnaturally warm that day, and the absolute only thing _he _had wanted to do was visit the Statue of Liberty. But they had never gone. Because he'd argued that it was too risky that fans might cause a riot and complained about the paparazzi and said scheduling wouldn't allow it anyway because they had interviews and photo shoots and so on and so forth. _He _had not said a word about it, just had gotten really quiet and nodded his understanding.

"Finn," a disembodied voice called.

The truth was he had just not wanted to climb all the stairs like _he _had been so excited about. He had been tired, their rehearsals had been grueling, and all he had wanted to do was sit in his hotel and rest. Now his only wish is that he had swallowed his damn selfishness and climbed the fucking stairs.

"Finn," the voice tries again.

They were just stairs after all. Why did he have to be such a prick about it? Why didn't he just go along with it? Why didn't he just say fuck off to everything else? That's what _he _would have done, once upon a time. But for some reason unknown, _he _had stopped in their last two months together. _He_ never argued with him at all, in fact, _he_ had agreed with everything that was decided without comment. And at the time he never once thought about it, or at least not to any great length, or even hinted a query about the depressive mood. He just reveled in the peace that had seemed to settle between the two of them.

"Finn!" this time the voice was punctuated by a shaking of the shoulder. Finn startled and looked up to see his band mate looking at him with worried blue eyes. Sam Evans. Enemy, turned best friend and back up vocalist/guitarist. "Dude, are you okay?" Sam asks in a very worried tone of voice.

"Yeah," Finn chokes out, blinking, having not realized he was on the verge of tears. He sits up straighter in his chair, and quickly takes inventory of the plane. Matt is passed out across two chairs, head in Rachel's lap who in turn is snoring up a storm big enough to cover the fucking Atlantic Ocean. Ryan, with his long black hair and dark skin, seems tuned out to all that was going on around him, totally focused on his movie and the bottle jack in his hand. And after a quick glance at the TV, Finn's glad Ryan – at least – has the decency to put headphones on. Artie is in the back corner playing a game of Scrabble with Mike and asking the attendant for more refreshments; who nods politely and turns to roll her eyes without caution as to who was watching her, at Ryan.

He has to give her her due for having the balls to do it. And Sam, as usual, was Finn's psychological nurse aid. If that even made sense.

"I'm fine." He finishes with a weak smile, while clearing his throat. "Perfectly peachy."

Sam huffs and sits across from him, not at all impressed. "Perfectly peachy, dude?" He looks at Finn through his eyelashes with disbelief. "That's way gay, even for you."

"Really," Finn continues choosing to ignore his slight, "I'm okay. Just…" he trails off with a slight shake of his hand before letting it drop, useless.

"Depressed. Introspective. Lonely. Scared half to death about the possibility of having to accept an award without…without _him" _Sam stops awkwardly, not meaning to have said that much, for fear of upsetting his friend.

Finn doesn't flinch; it's taken him an entire year for that to happen. He just goes back to staring out the window with his arms on his knees, watching as the New York City lights slowly come into view. After a prolonged silence, just letting the feeling of the plane's decent and the sounds of his friends readjusting themselves drench him, Finn softly says, "Yeah." Then looks at Sam, not bothering to hide the tears in his eyes. "Yeah, definitely that last one."

Sam nods as he buckles his seat belt, per the captain's request. "I'm not so fond of the idea myself, man." He rubs his hands together nervously, suddenly finding his shoes very interesting. "Puck, he…"

Finn fixes him with an intense glare. "Don't say that name." he growls. Sam's head shoots up, but shuts his mouth with a snap at Finn's sudden aggressiveness. Finn sees this and softens, sorry for scaring his friend.

Softer he continues, "His name wasn't Puck." He looks out the window again. "It wasn't even really Noah. To me his name was…" He bites his lip in order to keep his emotions in check. "Love." He whispers finally. "To me, his name was Love. And if I didn't call him that, I'd use Noah. Never Puck. I used Noah around the stage hands and interview people and whatnot."

Sam nods eyes getting distant as he begins walking down memory lane with Finn. "But it started out as a joke at rehearsals, you know, just to try and get a rise out of him…but then one day it just changed, I guess." He pauses as he lets the memories swell. "If I didn't say 'Love, how about writing it like this,' or 'Love, stop being such a dick,' he would get this-this attitude." Finn chuckles with pain evident in his voice and a tear threatening to fall.

He sniffs and faces Sam again, knowing full well the almost twenty-nine year old knew all of this already. "I called him Puck once, you know, when we were getting our coffees one day." He sniffs and rubs his nose, sounding choked. "God, I had never seen him become so _unstitched_ before over something so _stupid_. And it wasn't like he would just come out and tell me what was bothering him, or why he wouldn't look at me for the rest of the day or answer my texts in full sentences and not just letters. I had to figure it out through Rachel." Finn looks at Sam. "Rachel! I mean, Rachel was his best friend, sure; but Noah, he was-was…mine." He finishes lamely, eyes pinching together in typical Finn style.

"I remember that argument." Sam says wistfully, "You bought him a grand piano in apology for," he does air quotes, "'disregarding his feelings', and he punched you." Sam chuckles.

Finn shakes his head with a laugh as well. "He threatened castrate me for treating him like a girl."

"Well, Finn, come on, man. Did you really have to, like spell the whole thing out in front everyone and start singing to him like a pansy? I mean…duuude." Sam begins laughing.

Finn waves him off. "Point is he could read me like a book. He wrote songs like no one else, that could perfectly convey what I was feeling…but I couldn't even pick up on the fact that he actually liked me calling him Love. And, you know what? He even told me once, about six months before…" He stops, Sam nods his understanding, "and I _laughed_ at him. I fucking laughed _at _him. Not with him, _at _him. I told him that it was ridiculously stupid." Finn stares at his hands, sniffling and amends in a dead tone, "No to me it was stupid, to Noah…it was like-like I had given him something incredibly special."

"He used to call you, Baby, every now and again." Sam interjected with a firm nod.

Finn agreed with a sniff and looked back out the window. "I was so blind, you know? I thought that he was just being his normal hormonal, bipolar self…but he was telling me something, and I just was too oblivious to see it." Tears did begin to fall, and Finn was too drained to care. "Why did I have to be so oblivious, Sam?"

There was no response, and as the plane was landing, Finn was honestly glad. He didn't think his heart could handle any more truth to feel guilty about.

**Thank you for reading my first chapter. Please review.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay so sorry about the wait and thank you for reviewing. I am not entirely happy with this chapter, and I have a question. Would you guys also like to hear from Puck's POV? Or stay with Finn's? I'm getting kind of bored with Finn's POV, but if ya'll think it's better that way I'll put up with it. **

**Also, credit time. The song used belong to Daughtry. Title "It's Not Over," off their first self-titled albumn. Amazing song if you haven't heard, but this instance it'll be different form the orginal. I won't spoil how. :) **

**Anywho thank you for your kind reviews and please keep them coming. I get great inspiration you!**

**~heartorbrain**

**Chapter 2**

_3 years ago_

He found him in the studio, as expected. Noah didn't hang out in many places, so it wasn't exactly a challenge. He was sitting on a stool, acoustic guitar in hand strumming and humming to himself, occasionally writing a note on the sheet music next to him. Finn smiled hollowly, that was his best friend for you. Unaffected by the world, lost to another world of music. He wished the same were true for himself.

He quietly made his way into the sound room, and decided to just listen for awhile standing against the padding before making his presence known. The melody sounded kind of sad, almost contemplative. It made Finn start thinking, which he really didn't like. He came to Noah because Noah makes him happy after his Quinn fights, but instead he started becoming more depressed.

They were going to be playing at The Staples Theatre tomorrow night, so he went to go check on the progress of the stage development. When he reached his supposed dressing room, Quinn was getting very cozy with what appeared to be one of the stage hands. As their set director, it made sense for Quinn to be _directing_ the stage hand on how to set up his room. It was not, however, in her job description to start molesting the guy's mouth.

Finn silently fumed. He didn't make a scene, instead choosing to leave quietly and try and forget it ever happened. Their stage was more important at this point in the game than the state of their relationship; he'll break it off later. Not that Noah will approve, he's been anti-Quinn since her getting pregnant with Sam's child, back in high school, and trying to pass it off as his. Really, Finn knew he should just let her go. But there was just some part of him that needs her. She was his first love, and you're always supposed to work it out right?

After realizing his morose turn of thoughts, Finn sighed loudly and alerted his friend to his attendance.

"Hey," he said looking over at Finn startled with a small, embarrassed smile. "When'd you get here?"

Finn shrugged, shuffling closer with his head slightly bowed. "Haven't been here long, I just wanted to listen."

Noah looked minorly annoyed, as Finn had expected he would. He was always very possessive over his music, especially when it wasn't finished. Which could be easily attributed to the fact that Puck was a perfectionist. Nothing but the best got shown to anyone. Well, except maybe to Finn, if the tall, lanky man could bat his eyelashes enough. "You _know_ I don't like it when you hear something that isn't finished." And yes, Finn noted with mild amusement, that was a hint of a whine in his voice.

He smiled and covered his heart, looking positively too innocent. "Aww, love, it's only me." He ignores the scoff and pulls up a stool to sit next to his friend. "Can I hear the lyrics?"

Noah rolled his eyes at the boy's eagerness to feel as though he's getting to do something no one else is, "If I can hear what Quinn, the royal bitch, did this time." He replied snarkily and adjusted his papers on the back of the piano next to him.

"How did you know?" Finn answered with his typical Finn frown.

Noah laughed, "You're wearing you Finn-Broody-Face."

He scowled in response. "Am not. I don't have faces."

His best friend chuckled good naturedly, and sets the guitar down. "Uh-huh right, man, whatever you say."

The two grow quiet for a few minutes, not that it was at all uncomfortable. They could be silent for hours and have not a stitch of tension. It was something Finn was grateful for. With Rachel always being wiry and overbearing about performances and the other guys being all nervous and shit…it was nice to have Noah as his foil for sanity.

"So out with it already." The man in question eventually said, Finn laughed despite himself.

"Made out with a stage hand, didn't tell her I saw, left, because we need her to finish the set-up for tomorrow…the usual." Finn tried to sound nonchalant, but knew Noah could hear the hurt anyway.

"Dude," he started. "Fuck the stage, you should have told her to go to hell…" Noah said with an icy vehemence, "and take her spawn back with her!" he added after a moment in reference to the rogue stage hand.

Finn rolled his eyes, "It's more complicated than that, Puck." He sounded as though he were speaking to a five year old. "We have a tour to think about now. We're rock stars!"

The songwriter faltered slightly and stood up off his chair and went to the nook on the other side of the room where he kept his other music, biting time. "You and Rachel and the other guys are rock stars," He clarified turning to face Finn after getting one of the folders. "I'm just your songwriter."

Finn softened at his change of demeanor, disagreeing with him as Noah sat behind the piano. "Dude, don't start that. If it wasn't for you we wouldn't even be here."

"Wouldn't have won those Grammys three weeks ago, you mean." Noah said and gave Finn a pointed look. "I am under no delusions as to what my role is, Finn. And as I've said, I get it. Really."

Finn shook his head. They had been over this repeatedly. Without Noah there was no band. And with no band there was no, "three time Grammy award and four time American Music Award winning My New Direction." He was the heart of the group. He brought everyone together from the start, convinced Sam and himself to get over their argument for the sake of the group, got Mr. Shuester to let them use the name, and acted more like a second manager and mascot than just their lyricist.

But he never listened. He was far too self-sacrificing for that. He let everyone else have the spotlight. Let everyone else be the star, content to just live inside his studio and stand backstage as they perform. And Finn for the life of him couldn't figure out why. He was just as good if not better than their vocals…but the only time Finn got to hear him sing was when they were alone and Puck caved and allowed him to hear a preview of the music.

He sat down next to the now silent man that was staring at the keys and his fingers. "That isn't true and you know it." His voice was soft, drawing a snort from Puck. But plowed on, "Because of you we are all rock stars. Hell, Puck, you could go and get a job anywhere as a songwriter! And believe it or not, there are kids and teenagers that want to be like you _because_ of the music you write."

His friend bristled a moment, and then relaxed. "Whatever, dude. It doesn't matter." Finn made to protest because Noah always said things about himself didn't matter, but he cut him off with a raised hand and looking him directly in the eye. "You should get in Quinn's face once and for all. You let her walk all over you for no reason, man. _You _are better than that, better than her. And she knows it."

Finn took his turn to bristle and turn away. He stared at the music, noting the title and decided to change the subject before he said something he'd regret. "It's Not Over? What's that about?"

He heard his friend sigh, knowing the topic had officially been dropped if only for the moment. "In short, unrequited love."

Finn smirked, not only because of the double meaning, but also because Noah knows words like 'unrequited.' "Fitting," He turned back to the shorter man, and noticed for the first time that day that he was wearing all black. "Why are you in such dark clothes?" He asked with a light laugh taking in the black silk vest over a black and gray graphic tee, and black skinny jeans. "You look like you just came out of a punk concert."

The man in question looked down, and his olive colored cheeks turned a light red. "I, uh, was trying to look more rock music material."

An eyebrow raised. "There was nothing wrong with what you wore before."

"Yeah, well, Mona, pulled me aside the other day…"

"Puck! Don't even finish that sentence!" Finn snapped, angry his friend would listen to their handler. Her job extended to making him, Rachel, and everyone else look a certain way, not Noah. "She had no right-" he began irritated, while pulling out his phone.

To his surprise and displeasure, Noah grabbed his hand. "Stop. She's right. Whether I like it or not, I do sometimes get photographed with ya'll. So I need to dress the part." His big brown eyes seemed slightly sad, and that made Finn even more mad.

"You don't have to change, Noah." He denied.

Puck chuckled hollowly, nodding his head. "There's always a time for change." Was his cryptic response. Finn's eyebrows furrowed, not understanding, but before he could ask Noah said. "So how 'bout that song. You wanna hear? Maybe if you give me a few ideas I can finish fast enough for you guys to debut it tomorrow"

His voice sounded cheery, but Finn knew it was fake. He didn't understand why Noah would want to change his look. Sure, before, he dressed kind of immature. What with the gaudy colors and crazy t-shirts but it was a part of him. He filed it away for later to make sure he didn't do something stupid like shave his head full of dark brown curls into a mohawk or something.

"Yeah, fine," he conceded, settling himself on the bench as Noah began to tap a few keys and hum a deep throaty noise.

_I was blown away.  
>What could I say?<br>It all seemed to make sense.  
>You've taken away everything,<br>And I can't deal with that.  
><em>

Finn was always floored to hear such a deep voice come from someone relatively small. But Puck always sounded so honest and filled emotion when he sang. Like the words were taking a leaf right out of his own book or something.

_I try to see the good in life,  
>But good things in life are hard to find.<br>We'll blow it away, blow it away.  
>Can we make this something good?<em>

Finn shifted in his seat, amazed on how he made that note so effortless. He was singing with his eyes closed, fingers tapping away at the appropriate keys without a glance. There was a sadness lacing the lyrics he didn't quite understand, but it was kind of how he felt about Quinn. No matter what he tries to do to make it work, it just always feels like it'll only ever fall apart.

_Well, I'll try to do it right this time around._

Hearing the perfect melody and looking ahead at the notes, Finn decided to join in while Noah holds that note.

_Let's start over.  
><em>**(I'll try to do it right this time around.)  
><strong>_It's not over.  
><em>(**'Cause a part of me is dead and in the ground.)**  
><em>This love is killing me,<br>But you're the only one.  
>It's not over.<br>_

Puck stopped playing the keys and turned to face Finn, drawing a shaky breath. "Well?"

"I don't want you to stop, sing me the rest." Finn said sincerely, captivated for a few moments by the intensity in which Noah was staring at him. He didn't know what it was but it was like at any moment a bomb would go off or something. It felt strange and exciting all at once.

Noah breathed in again, and began playing the keys again, a little harder almost angrier this time.

_Taken all I could take,  
>And I cannot wait.<br>We're wasting too much time  
>Being strong, holding on.<br>I can't let it bring us down.  
>My life with you means everything,<br>So I won't give up that easily.  
>I'll blow it away, blow it away.<br>Can we make this something __**good?**__  
><em>

Finn joined in on the last note, noticing how it made Puck play the keys harder and sing the song from a deeper place in his chest.

_'Cause it's all misunderstood._

Puck shook his head at that and then together they belted out…

_**Well, I'll try to do it right this time around**__._

Let's start over.

**I'll try to do it right this time around.**_**  
><strong>__It's not over.  
><em>**'Cause a part of me is dead and in the ground.  
><strong>_This love is __**killing me,**__  
>But you're the only one.<br>__**It's not over.  
><strong>_

Finn stands up and crossed the room to grab a guitar, thankful Puck had taught him several years prior.

_No we can't let this get away.  
><em>_**Let it out, let it out.  
>Don't get caught up in yourself.<br>Let it out.  
><strong>__  
><em>

They lock eyes, and something is happening between them, he knows. Just not what. And it was so frustrating, but he continues to sing from every pore of himself, trying to match his best friend's fervor. Even though it was extremely difficult. They were on fire! And it made Finn want to do this again, in front of people.

**Let's start over.  
><strong>_I'll try to do it right this time around.  
><em>**It's not over.  
><strong>_'Cause a part of me is dead and in the ground.  
><em>_**This love is killing me,  
>But you're the only one.<br>It's not over.  
><strong>__  
>Let's start over.<br>_**It's not over, yeah...**_**  
><strong>__This love is __**killing me,  
><strong>__But you're the only one.  
><em>_**It's not over.**_

Finn dropped the guitar after letting note hang, and walked with purpose back to Noah. "You and I are singing that tomorrow."

Puck looked disappointed at first and then shocked, "What no? Why would we do that, you and Rachel will sing it just fine."

"No," Finn said with a slight growl, "Puck this was amazing! This song is incredible! And we sang it just as much!"

"I'm not made for a stage, Finn." Noah said almost desperately, "Remember Glee? I had to quit because I hate singing in public!" If Finn weren't so high on the possibility of another award and more song sales, not to mention more notoriety, he would have seen the absolute panic and the other man's face. "I can't!"

"You will!" he said in what he thought was a soothing voice. "You'll be great!"

"But!" Puck was answered with the sound of the door closing, realizing his friend had left and he hadn't even seen him walk off.

FP~FP~FP

_Present_

Finn sits at Puck's bedside, ignoring the aspirator and the beeping of the machine telling him his heart's activities. Two weeks had gone by, and Puck was still in a coma.

"He might not ever wake…"

"Does he have family? They should be contacted to say goodbye…"

"Finn you need to accept that Noah is dead…"

"Finn it wasn't your fault…"

"If I hadn't been selfish that night, and let him go like he wanted to he wouldn't have gotten hit! It's all my fault…"

"In other news today the song writer for the multi platinum group, My New Direction, is in a coma because of a fatal crash…"

"…drunk driver…"

"…blood bath…"

"…tragic accident…"

"…paid hit for gay love in the music business?..."

"…Noah Puckerman, rising songwriter and singer…"

"…I mean, they had all kinds of enemies. Noah Puckerman was a bisexual lyricist that got in way over his head. Come on, in the music industry it's a dog eat dog world, you know what I mean? (laughs)…"

"…what happens when the world finds something good, they kill it dead."

Finn starts sobbing as all of the voices circle inside his head. Some belonging to friends, some to news reporters, some to himself, and some to random strangers…he couldn't take it. So he got up and left the hospital, hoping to find peace alone in a hotel for the night.

**Thank you for reading. :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you guys so much for your support! I have over 1500 hits and 16 alerts! BUUUUUT only 4 reviews...am i being selfish if I say I really really want more reviews? LOL maybe, but...PLEASE? *puppy dog eyes* **

**I realized that last chapter I left out some crucial info for the song. **

_Finn _Puck _**Finn/Puck**_

**And for this chapter (the second half, you'll see)**

_Finn _Rachel _**Finn/Rachel**_

**I'm really excited about the next few chapers. I've plotted this story to be no more than 12-15; but I'm undecided on the ending. ONe ending well give it a sequel, and another will end the story completely. So here's my question, would you guys like a sequel? **

**Disclaimer: The song is "Hide Away" by Hilary Duff. I love this song and fit this chappie perfectly. I don't own anything but my insane musings. **

**~heart**

_Chapter 3_

_1 year later_

_Hiding Away  
>Losing the day<br>As if it doesn't really matter  
><em>

Finn blew air out of his nose, while riding up the elevator.

He hated this song.

_Saying Goodbye  
>Scared to say why<br>Afraid it will shatter our world  
><em>

He hated this song because he loved it so much. Noah had written it for their third album and it had gone platinum within ten days. The message was so poignant, and lately, never failed to piss him off.

_Show me some faith now  
>Trust me somehow<br>_

It pissed him off because it reminded him of why Noah had written it. It didn't help that it wasn't the voice of himself he was listening to – or even Rachel's – but Puck's himself.

_Why are we keeping our secrets  
>Why are we hiding ourselves away<br>Any way we can hide away  
>I don't wanna fake it<br>I wanna make you believe, what I say  
>I won't let you...hide away<em>

Stepping out of the elevator and into the way overpriced room, he sighed long and loud. His band mates had yet to arrive, so he took in the silence with gratitude. Making his way to one of the large rooms, he set his Luis Vuiton suitcase down and plopped on the bed. The sheets were made out of silk, the drapes matching its rich maroon color, and from his vantage point he could tell the view of the city would be incredible. Briefly he thought back over how four and a half years ago, a room like this, was something he only dreamed of. Now the Presidential Suite was all but thrown at him just so the hotel chain could say he stayed in it. The realization made him snort in derision.

He lay back, staring at the underneath of the canopy, arms draped over his stomach, fingers twitching. Faintly he could hear a ticking from a clock and he had a funny thought…he thinks too much. In fact, he thinks so much anymore, there is almost nothing he hasn't thought about. That makes him feel pathetic, so he sighs again. Wasn't his fault really. Just…after the accident he hasn't really had all that much to say. He said everything to Noah, because _Noah_ was his compass. But now…he's really kinda lost.

"_That's why you're here." _The constant reminder said softly. He closed his eyes.

"Hey, Finn," Rachel's voice drifted in as she opened the door, looking uncertain.

He sits up quickly, startled and wide eyed. "Oh, hey, didn't hear you come in, Rach."

She hums her agreement and comes in to sit next to him.

She's changed so much from her high school self. Dating Matt really leveled her out. Well, that, and dropping out of Julliard because as far as calls for Broadway went, they were few and far between. Noah had been the one to change her direction though, making her see she could still be a star without following in some Tony Award winner's footsteps. She had to make her own way, and even though the decision was hard and there were many tears shed she followed, finding the path to her happiness just as everyone else.

Finn wasn't entirely sure, though, on how her and Matt officially got together. Really, because he never asked, but they were happy so that's all that mattered.

And he wasn't, and that sucked.

Rachel pulls a piece of paper out of her pocket and stares at it for a second. Finn stares as well, wondering what it is. The last time he saw something that looked close to that was the morning…

"It's from Noah," she eventually says while holding the folded note reverently. Finn's eyes bug slightly and he catches her eye. "I took it off the coffee table that afternoon when I went to your apartment to get you some clothes."

Rachel gives it to Finn with a slight tremble in her hand and Finn takes it with a matching shake.

"There's a song attached." She sniffs and looks at her hands.

Finn opens it, seeing the wear and tear on the paper and realizing it really was from Noah because no one could mistake his perfect calligraphy.

"What's it say, Rach?" he mumbles and folds it over again, putting next to him.

She glances at him in disbelief, "You should read it to find out."

"Why didn't you give it to me before?" He looks at her from the corner of his eye, challenge evident.

They are silent for awhile, each lost to their own thoughts, which peeves Finn. He had just gotten through thinking he thinks too much. "You remember in junior high," Rachel finally starts and makes Finn look at her profile, "when we first met Noah, how no one but you liked him very much."

Finn hesitantly nods his head, and after a moment looks back out through the curtains.

"You ever wonder, what would have happened had things been different?" She asks with a catch in her throat turning to him.

His head shoots back in her direction, eyebrows drawn together. "Different how?"

She shrugs, "I don't know, just…" she pauses and bites her glossy lip. "I've been thinking, I guess. We were never really all that nice to him till we figured out how amazing he was at songwriting." She chuckles and shakes her head. "Helping us take Nationals with his lyrics."

"You were," Finn says confused. "He talked to you all the time, Rach. You guys were like the best of friends, what are you talking about?"

"No, I really wasn't, Finn." She sniffs and starts picking at her nails. "We got along for your sake back then, because we both loved you, but only for that." She faces him, brown eyes shining.

Finn felt extremely confused. "Wha-What do you mean 'we both loved you,'?"

"It was my fault, really. Us not being friends," she plows on ignoring him. "I wanted to make him aware you were off limits, like I had Kurt and he just wasn't one to go down without a fight." Finn would feel like an outsider to memories better left alone if they didn't concern him as they did.

"But then-then you went back to Quinn…" Rachel takes a moment to let that sink in and Finn to nod from annoyance of the name, "and it was time for Nationals and he had to quit because he passed out on stage during our performance of 'Tik-Tok' for alcohol awareness week. And then he wrote that song for us _so selflessly_, and I realized _just _how much of an _awful_ bitch I was being." She drew in a breath, steadying herself from the guilt behind her words. "I apologized to him and in his usual way he acted as if it never happened. And _then_ we were friends."

Finn mulled that over but asked again, "What do you mean he loved me, Rachel?"

Rachel looks at him like he was stupid for a minute. "Noah adored you from the moment he met you, Finn. Looked at you like you were the fucking Holy Grail or something."

And if that statement alone wasn't enough to make Finn know it was true, nothing else would. Rachel Berry never swore unless it mattered.

Finn shook his head, "No, he didn't. He dated that girl Lauren till graduation and then they broke up because she was going to UT." It's more of a question than a statement but they both know it's only because Finn doesn't want to hear nor be forced to accept the truth.

"No, Finn, he dated Lauren because you wouldn't give him the time of day. You made it clear you were his friend but nothing else. That's why he was okay when she left him." she wiped at the corner of her eye. You need to read the letter."

Finn shook his head again becoming increasingly agitated, and threw said letter on the ground. He stands up angrily, making wide gestures at Rachel and almost growling. "Why are you bringing this up? Now? Of all times? I came to New York to get over him, get over what I lost. Fuck!" He snarls and kicks his suitcase over.

"Because," for a brief moment she was impassioned as she stood up to argue, and then it left. "I don't know," she breathes out and looks away from his miserable face. "I'm sorry."

Finn huffs and slumps back against a wall.

"It's just that," Rachel says softly ignoring the fact that tears were starting to fall, "I wish things had been different from the start." She sniffs. "Like we could go back and fix it somehow. You two should have been together then, but because of me and stupid ass Quinn and all the other shit it didn't happen." Their eyes meet for a second before it's lost.

He knows she's right. He knows he's beating a brick wall with a pillow by admitting it now, because no matter who's right it doesn't change the fact that the wall isn't moving. He closes his eyes, picturing Noah's youthful, happy face gazing at him with bright chocolate eyes. A soft sob escapes him, and Rachel reaches for him but he raises an arm. Even though they were long since over, and he's cried in her arms with no romantic stirring multiple times over the last year, he came to New York for a reason. To let go and move on.

After a minute he opens his eyes and takes a deep breath, biting his lip in regret and chucking the letter before picking it up and setting on the dresser carefully. He stares at it, wondering if he should ever read it. "Rach, it's all on me." He starts, and continues to let the tears fall. "You're right about one thing, we _s-should_ have been together, but it wasn't you…or even s-stupid ass Quinn." He adds after a moment, and they exchange an amused glance. "I was just too fucking bullheaded to see past my own shit. But he waited for me, and all I ever gave him was disappointment."

She makes to protest but his look turns it off. Rachel nods eventually and they fall back into silence. Finn turns back and faces the paper, touching the edges. He hears her sit down again on the bed sniffling more and trying to not start balling. More than likely for his sake, and for that he was grateful. He sighs and begins to hum,

_Where do we go  
>How do we know<br>What we're ever really after  
><em>

He turns to Rachel and she looks shocked for a moment, listening. He doesn't pay much attention to her though, choosing to look at the light through the blinds while continuing to sing the song he hates so much because it was so true about how Noah felt about him. And now it's so true on how he feels about a ghost.

_Sometimes it's clear  
>When you are here<br>Nothing can shatter our world  
><em>

Rachel swallows and clears her throat before joining in.

_**I need some faith now  
>To trust you somehow<strong>_

_**Why are we keeping our secrets  
>Why are we hiding ourselves away<br>Any way we can hide away  
>I don't wanna fake it<br>I wanna make you believe, what I say  
>I won't let you...hide away<br>**_

Rachel stands and walks towards Finn as he turns around to slide down the wall.

_Maybe I, maybe I'm, maybe I'm losin'_

She sits next to him, touching his shoulder.

And maybe I, maybe I'm, maybe I'm okay?_  
>We turn around, look around, go around in circles<br>_Don't run away, or drift away_  
><em>_**Don't hide away**_

He lays his head on her shoulder. She takes over, sensing he just needs to be able to be comforted. Because as much as he pretends and wants to be, he isn't fine. And no amount of singing on the Grammy stage to kick off the My New Direction's comeback, he won't be for a long time.  
><em><br>_

Why are we keeping our secrets  
>Why are we hiding ourselves away<br>Any way we can hide away  
>I don't wanna fake it<br>I wanna make you believe what I say  
>Ohh What I say, believe what I say<br>I won't let you hide away…hide away

He sighs and quietly finishes.

_Hiding away, losin' the day  
>As if it doesn't really matter<em>

**So this is a little short, but hey! A letter! What does it say? Find out soon. Thank you for reading, and R&R!**


	4. Chapter 4

Hey thanks for all the reviews! SoutherHemmy, you rock, I love you so much! If anyone is looking for a good Puck angst story, check out profile, it's filled! Also .Rain, thank you so much for all your support! And once again, got a sweet tooth (like me, hey it's no secret) for Puck angst, Rain has a ton!

So this next chapter took me awhile because we are starting to get into the deeper stuff. I plan for this story to be about 10-12 chapters and this is filled with plot.

Songs used: "Careful" by Paramore-effing amazing song, and I didn't site any lyrics, but it fits so well for Puck. So if you haven't heard the song, please go find it somewhere and give it a listen. It's awesome.

"Out of the Blue" by Aly and AJ-I'll probably revisit this song, because I didn't use a lot of it. But once again amazing song just written for Puck/Finn romance.

Enjoy!

~heart

**Chapter 4**

_Present_

"So, Mr. Hudson, why are you here?" A man with a receding hairline and dreadful polyester clothing asks politely over the rim of his small, wire rimmed reading glasses. He was relaxed in a chair, legs crossed professionally, looking for all the world like he did this every day. And Finn quickly realizes that since he is a psychologist, he actually did. Kurt had said his name was Dr. Thompson.

"_He's really good, Finn. He helped me overcome losing my mom."_

"_No, offence, Kurt, but there's a difference. Noah isn't dead."_

"_Finn, he may as well be."_

"_FUCK YOU! You're my brother! You aren't supposed to say that to me! You are supposed to tell me he's gonna wake up!"_

"_Yes, I'm your brother. I have comforted you. Now it's time I tell you the truth."_

He sighs, and rubs his hands together. He's been doing that a lot over the past month. Rubbing, rubbing, almost like he forgot to wash something off.

_*…blood covered hands...sticky, crimson liquid from head to toe…droplets falling to the pavement…falling, always falling…*_

"Mr. Hudson, are you alright?" his voice is like nails on a chalkboard, Finn drops his hands to his side and nods jerkily. He's fine. Just like he always is. "Okay, well would you like to discuss what has you distressed?"

Finn considers this. No, he really doesn't. He shakes his head in the negative. Dr. Thompson observes him with a critical eye making Finn shift uncomfortably on the sofa he was sat on. "Well then is there anything you _would_ like to discuss?"

"Yeah," he says it before he even thinks, then silently curses himself for a fool. He isn't one for talking about feelings, even though he knows if he doesn't talk about this soon, the stress may eat him alive.

"Okay, son," he replies gently and Finn briefly imagines its Burt instead of this Dr. Thompson.

"Does time ever truly heal a broken heart? Or is that just as much bullshit as saying it's better to have loved and lost, then never to have loved at all? Because, Dr. Thompson, I may have only gotten to love him for one night, but now that I can't anymore, I wish I hadn't." His eyes involuntarily fill with unshed tears, and he begins rubbing his hands together again, this time a little more aggressively.

Dr. Thompson began to respond after a long moment, but Finn cuts him off. "A month ago I was going to marry this girl, Quinn." He snorts and looks up but past the intently listening psychologist. "I thought I was going to be happy, you know. Quinn, she wasn't fooling around anymore. My fans loved her…course nobody knew the truth about her, but still it was great!" Finn is only mildly aware that he sounds slightly hysterical.

"And now?" Dr. Thompson prompts.

Finn looks him directly in the eye, processing that question, coming up blank. "Tell Kurt for me, I tried; but therapy isn't what I need."

He stands up, and heads for the door, only vaguely hearing the doctor's call of, "Well, what do you need, Finn?"

He stops and stands at the door, touching with a firm hand the cold, dark wood. He sniffs and says, "The only thing I've ever needed…Noah Puckerman."

FP~FP~FP

_2 years ago_

"It's been a great six months." Finn says with a giant smile to the interviewer, named Patricia, currently sitting across from him. MTV was doing a special and as exciting as it was for all of them, it was also scary. Where before they were known, now they were _known. _The group of friends were sat in a semi-circle with Noah in the center, Finn sitting on his immediate right, Matt on his immediate left with Rachel right next to him. Mike sat next to Sam who was next to Finn, and Artie was right beside Rachel remaining a silent force. "My New Direction has gone from successful to out of this world as soon as Noah hit the stage."

Rachel chuckles, shaking the bracelets adorning her wrists. "You mean since you basically threw him out on the stage."

Both Sam and Finn give her a look before Noah decides to take his turn to talk. "What Rachel means is, since Finn convinced me to come out with everyone…" he looks minorly shy as he continues, "Until recently I haven't really been one for big crowds. I'm a writer. _That _is my passion." He nods to himself and Matt bumps shoulders with him encouragingly.

Patricia nods. "Writing, huh? Do you write all of the songs, or…"

"Oh, no, Noah writes everything!" Finn praises, leaning forward slightly. "Every lyric, every note, he has a gift _no one_ can match." The Jew looks over at him with appreciative eyes and the older man returns the look. "We are nothing without him."

Noah blushes and starts stutter, Rachel leans across her boyfriend to pat his knee. "He's right, Puck. We need you."

"Where do you get your inspiration from, if you don't mind me asking? Because I know all of your fans just absolutely gush about how all of your songs are so real, you know?"

He clears his throat, "Uh, well everything, actually. The songs are real because they're about real stuff."

"And by 'stuff' you mean," Patricia prompted.

"Well, um, like our song 'Careful.' It's about feeling as though the one you want to hear you isn't listening anymore and you have to start figuring life out on your own." He pauses to take a breath as he hears murmurs of agreement. "Everyone's felt like that at least once in their lifetime. The lyrics I write are relatable, because I've experienced them myself. Being bisexual has never been easy, so I draw it from my own stories."

Patricia looks to Sam as he speaks up. "Puck's writing is impassioned. When he joined us on stage, we excelled because our fans could _literally feel_ what he was; and in some ways, our performances are almost like…supernatural."

Mike laughs suddenly but grins, and everyone turns to the Asian. "I can't sing worth a flip, but he taught me how to play the piano and violin like a MOFO, and I can tell you Sammy here is right when he says it's a supernatural experience when you listen to him playing his music."

Noah looks away, uncomfortable and embarrassed.

Patricia looks pensive for a moment before making a noise of understanding. "So, would you all say that," she chews the name over and says it with significance, "_Puck _is the heart of the group?"

"Yes, definitely!" Finn replies with enthusiasm and Rachel rolls her eyes at him. Noah sits quietly, fiddling with the top of his boot currently crossing over his lap.

She makes a noise of contemplation, judging each person in front of her before sniffling a little. "So ya'll are from Lima…"

"…Ohio." Artie finishes for her, finally speaking up but then rushes to correct himself. "Well except for ole' Puckerone over there. He's from the Lone Star State."

Noah's eyes widen and he sucks in a breath, looking panicked. "I-I'm from Lima, too…sort of."

Patricia watches him suspiciously. "And by 'sort of,' you mean…what?"

Rachel clears her throat and cuts Finn off, "Noah Puckerman is a fine man with Texan roots. There's nothing to be ashamed of, if that's where you are going with this."

The interviewer looks to Rachel with a hard stare, "I assure you, my reasons are strictly for journalistic values, to ultimately benefit your fans getting to know all of you better. Noah Puckerman, or _Puck, _is a major part of that."

A heaviness enters the room and it's almost too much for Noah to take as he watches the two stare each other down. Ignoring the supporting hand resting on his arm from Finn, he sniffles once, getting the attention of Patricia before offering a brief explanation, "I-I lived in Odessa till I was seven, then I lived in Pittsburg…then when I was sixteen I moved again to Lima."

Finn bites his lip before interjecting. "He joined our halls junior year. Fit right in with the rest of us Glee members, like he'd always been there!"

Patricia got a slight gleam in her eye, ignoring Finn. "Why'd you move around so much?"

Puck shifted and looked to Finn for help. Matt sat silent as the grave, cursing Artie for a fool as Rachel squeezed his hand far too tightly than could be healthy for her perfect manicure; and the wheelchair bound boy sat fidgeting.

"Tha-That's a bit personal…" Sam jumps in while everyone was floundering for a way to change the subject.

"I'm a…" Noah takes a deep breath, making the decision to just tell the truth and get it over with then looking to the floor, "I'm a product of the system. When I was seven my dad beat my-my mom up pretty bad, and, uh, my sis and me lived with my aunt until I turned sixteen." Finn was looking at Noah with concern as he gently starts rubbing his arm. "Then some stuff happened and I wound up in a foster home in Lima."

"What about your sister?" Patricia presses and Noah looks up stricken.

"That's enough of that," Finn stated finally, clasping his best friend's hand tightly.

"She drowned. In a lake. When she was only eight." He answers tightly feeling something snap inside despite his best friend's calling her off.

"That's terrible." The MTV lady replies and crosses her legs. "Is that why you wound up in foster care?"

"I really don't think this appropriate." Matt growls at the lady.

"No, actually, it isn't." Noah waits for her to draw in a breath for another question before cutting her off. "Wait let me guess, what was? Well maybe it was because when I turned thirteen and my aunt remarried this respectable looking guy – that, stupid me, I thought was really nice – he started doing some not so respectable things that I'm sure with your," he makes air quotes with a wild look in his eye, "journalistic values' you will be more than capable of filling in the blank."

Finn squeezes his hand tighter, trying to draw his attention from burning holes through the lady's head as her eyes widen in shock.

The camera shook slightly as the man holding it looked a little green. You can hear a pin drop after that, the whole room vibrating with tension. Patricia looks a cross between sick and mortified, Finn looks like he's ready to crack and hurt someone, Rachel is sitting on the edge of her seat ready to move, and Sam is glaring at Artie so intensely Matt slaps his arm to get him to knock it off. Noah, however, looks like he's ready to take on the world three times without even breaking a sweat. Though that could be attributed to the fact that he was running purely off of fear and anxiety, all of his secrets spilling out in waves from being pushed a tad bit too far.

"I'm not a loser." Noah says suddenly, causing everyone to look over into his pain-filled face, tears slowly welling up and spilling forward. He looks first to Finn for confirmation and then Rachel. "I'm not."

"No you're not, Sweetie." Rachel says lovingly, getting up from her char to hug him.

Finn snarls angrily, looking to the interviewer. "We're done here."

And the camera was shut off to the picture of Finn carrying out a balling Noah and Rachel flipping Patricia off.

FP~FP~FP

_When something's pure  
>How can people just say<br>We're not meant to be?  
>And when something's true<br>How can people just  
>Keep me away from you?<em>

Noah Puckerman was always a loner, Finn thought, as he watched him strum away a melody only he knew. It had been two days since "the disaster," as the band had taken to calling it happened. Noah hadn't really spoken to anyone. Choosing instead to lock himself inside their grand Hotel room and write lyrics for hours on end. You could hear the scratching of pen on paper, crumpling sheets unwanted, and soft strumming through the thin walls of his bedroom sanctuary.

Finn sighs. It wasn't supposed to be like this. By silent agreement they never talked about Noah's past. They just didn't. It wasn't necessarily taboo, Finn knew what happened to his beloved friend. It was just out of respect for his feelings, it was never brought up.

_Suddenly I'm all alone  
>Pushed away from nothing wrong<br>Don't you have the guts to say  
>How you feel about me?<em>

Finn hears a muttered curse and takes that as his cue to enter the room properly and stop eavesdropping around the corner.

"I've known you've been standing there for well over half an hour, and now you decide to show your face?" was the Jew's sarcastic remark to his presence while putting the guitar down and getting off of the posh bed to go into his music supply bag in the beautiful wardrobe.

Finn doesn't miss the fact that Noah isn't looking at him. "Love, I…"

"Just save it, Finn, okay?" Noah says gruffly finally finding what he's looking for and it's a new set of strings. "I fucked up, I get it. You don't have to say anything about it."

"That wasn't what I was going to say, Love." Finn sighs and walks over to the younger man struggling with his strings. "What she did was awful."

Puck snorts and looks up with challenging eyes. "You know what's even more awful, is the fact that I freaked out like a girl about it."

Finn reaches for Noah's shaking hands and gently grasps them. "No, you didn't. You stood your ground. Even when I told her to knock it off you pushed through." Noah looks away. "You should be proud of yourself. I'm proud of you."

Noah draws in a shaky breath, softly setting the supplies down on the comforter and sitting on the edge of the bed. "There's nothing to be proud of Finn. I was sexually assaulted…_repeatedly _from thirteen to sixteen." A tear escapes as the smaller man slowly shrinks himself even more into a ball and his best friend sits captivated at his side. "I used to lay awake under my bed, hoping and praying he wouldn't come into after Mildred went to sleep. And sometimes he didn't, but that was apart of the game. Keep me afraid, never know when he's gonna strike."

Noah rubs his hands together. "Almost like my dad. Never know when the alcohol meant he was coming for you, beat you until you're a bloody pulp." Another tear drops. "I used to wonder _why?_ Why _I_ deserved it. I-I did everything I was supposed to. I tr-tried to be a good boy; but eventually it just became rou-routine. I was born to be abused, so I got used to it." Then the Jewish boy begins to sob outright.

Finn takes hold of Noah's chin gently, hushing his tears and wrapping him in his arms. "Shh, that isn't true, Love. You're beautiful."

"But when Sarah died, I knew it wasn't right. She drowned because Marcus dropped her into the lake when he knew she couldn't swim."

"Shh, Noah, it's alright." Finn says gently rocking him back and forth.

"She was screaming for me, but I couldn't get to her. He locked me in the outhouse." Noah lays across Finn's lap, letting the paler man stroke his curly hair. "Why am I such a loser, Finn? Why did I get given all these bad things?"

Finn thinks it over as Noah slowly quiets down. "I don't know, Love. I just don't know." Noah sighs and stares off into the distance, until he feels Finn turning his face towards him. He looks up with wide, wet eyes. "All I know is you didn't deserve any of it. If I ever meet that Marcus, I'll kill him for doing this to you. It's honestly too bad your dad is gone, because I sure as hell would do the same thing to him." Finn lets that sink in Noah to look mildly uncertain. "You Noah Eli Puckerman, are beautiful, talented, and my best friend. I would do anything for you. You know that right?"

Noah nods with a small whimper. Finn smiles, "Good. Don't ever forget that."

They sit in silence for awhile, Noah still draped across Finn's lap, head resting on his knee while Finn runs his finger through his hair soothingly. After what feels like an eternity to Finn he hears Noah whisper, "I need you, Finn. Baby I need you in more ways than I could ever tell you."

Finn thinks on that and says, "I need you too, Noah." He takes a deep breath and whispers, "Always."

**Thank you for reading! Please review!**


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